


Adrenaline

by astolat



Series: Fast & Furious works [3]
Category: Fast & Furious 7 (2014), Fast and the Furious Series
Genre: M/M, Missing The Bullets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-09
Updated: 2015-06-09
Packaged: 2018-04-03 14:12:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4103824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astolat/pseuds/astolat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Are you kidding me, O’Conner?”<br/>Brian had the nerve to glare at him. “I’m not doing it on fucking purpose!”<br/>“For Christ’s sake,” Dom said.<br/>“Fuck you, Toretto, you’re the one who drove us <em>between skyscrapers</em>,” Brian said.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Adrenaline

**Author's Note:**

> With many thanks to Cesperanza and Merry for beta!

They’d barely gotten away from the wreckage of the skyscraper wall, running down half a dozen stories before they melted into a crowd of people all asking each other what the hell had happened in twenty different languages. They cut out of the stairwell onto a different floor and caught an empty elevator, their suits still speckled with dust and Dom’s heart still going four hundred miles an hour, and that was when Dom noticed Brian was — “Are you  _kidding_ me, O’Conner?”

Brian had the nerve to glare at him. “I’m not doing it on fucking purpose!”

“For Christ’s sake,” Dom said.

“Fuck you, Toretto, you’re the one who drove us _between skyscrapers,_ ” Brian said.

“Not to get my fucking rocks off!” Dom said.

“Oh, yeah?” Brian said, getting in his face. “Tell me it wasn’t hot to have seven hundred horsepower under your hands, flying through the fucking stratosphere, nowhere to go and just _going_ for it—”

Dom got two handfuls of Brian’s suit and shoved him back against the wall of the elevator, pissed off: there was a difference between seeing what had to get done and _liking_ it, wanting it just for the hell of it, and he wanted to slap Brian right across his pretty face until he got that into his head, because if he could ride along on the goddamn most stupid thing Dom had ever done and call it having a good time, there was nothing he wouldn’t —

Brian grabbed him and kissed him, gripping him around the back of the head and holding him for it, making him take it, and Dom snarled and shoved him off and swung at him. Brian ducked under it and came up with a hard kidney punch, ran into him with his shoulder and slammed him back against the door of the elevator, kissed him again viciously, and Dom grabbed his head and kissed him back.

Brian mashed half a dozen buttons blindly with one hand, and the doors slid open behind Dom’s back. They staggered out onto the ninety-third floor, vacant and half-decorated with stacks of bathroom tile and heaps of drapery everywhere, and Brian was all over him, yanking at Dom’s jacket, wrestling it half off and trapping his arms, going after his shirt, crazy as a sack full of cats and Dom couldn’t quit kissing him, getting his mouth on any part of Brian’s skin he could reach, setting teeth in his shoulder. He ripped his arms out of the sleeves and grabbed Brian and hauled him over onto the couch still in its plastic wrappings, $67,000 pricetag still attached, and he shoved off the plastic and Brian dragged him down onto it.

They were fighting each other for who got to be on top every step of the way, Dom trying to pin Brian flat on his back, Brian twisting out and up, scattering pillows and throwing a leg across Dom’s hips, using all his weight to keep him down. They didn’t stop kissing, didn’t stop getting their clothes off. Dom grabbed Brian’s bare thighs, rock-hard muscle under his hands, all that power running hot and furious in his grip, and fuck, he couldn’t help it: it _was_ hot, it was the hottest thing in the whole fucking world, and there was nowhere else to go but right out into the sky.

“Going to _take_ you there, Dom,” Brian said, kissing him, getting on him, and fuck, his cock sliding right along Dom’s the whole sweet length: he had his hand around them both, hips rocking. “I swear, come on, give it to me,” and Christ, Brian was moving down him, mouthing kisses over his ribs, his hands sliding along Dom’s thighs.

“Jesus,” Dom said, grabbing the armrest behind him, his head falling back because he couldn’t fucking _watch:_ was Brian seriously going to suck his cock? Oh, fuck, he _was_ , Jesus, and Dom reached down blind and grabbed Brian’s head as his mouth closed over him, the soft bristle of his hair, and fuck, Brian was sloppy and all over the place, trying just to figure out how to get around like he’d never done this before, he’d never done it for anybody, and Dom groaned out loud and had to fight it down not to come right then, all over Brian’s face. “Christ, O’Conner, just _suck_ it.”

Brian gave him the finger without ever lifting his head, still mouthing his way up and down both sides of Dom’s cock, scrape of his stubble against Dom’s thigh, and then he finally got back down to it, sucked the top of it in, running his tongue around. “Fuck,” Dom said. “Jesus, _fuck_ ,” and put both hands on Brian’s head, trying to shove him down, and Brian made a muffled noise like _fuck you, off!_

Dom took his hands off, the last thing he wanted was for Brian to fucking stop, maybe ever, but he had to ball them up to keep from going right back: _fuck_ , Brian was _trying_ , Brian was moving around on him, trying to find a way to take him deeper. Then he got a better angle and then he had half of Dom’s cock in his mouth, fuck, his hand tight around the rest of it, and Dom was airborne and flying, coming just like that. Brian pulled off coughing and choking, back of his hand across his mouth as he _swallowed_ , sweaty and wild-eyed, and Dom fucking _loved_ the crazy bastard.

He sank back limp against the armrest. “Brian, you fucking lunatic,” he said, cracking up helplessly.

Brian wiped his mouth again and gave him a shove. “Turn over.”

“Yeah, you think so,” Dom said, snorting.

“Oh, fuck you,” Brian said.

“Ah, quit bitching,” Dom said. “Come up here, I’ll give you a hand.”

“Are you kidding me?” Brian gave a sharp laugh. “You know what, forget it. I wouldn’t want to put you to any trouble.”

“Christ, Brian,” Dom said, irritated, and Brian got up off the couch and grabbed for his pants and yanked them on without looking at him, shoved his feet back into his dress shoes and grabbed his shirt and jacket off the floor and headed for the elevator pulling them on, never looking around. Dom rolled his eyes and grabbed his own shirt off the floor: what, had Brian really thought he was going to _do_ that? He pulled his own pants back on and got up and went after him: the elevator was arriving.

Brian went in and punched the lobby button and stood there right at the bank staring straight ahead, his face gone completely hard and blank, his shoulders stiff; his mouth was turned down and thin. Dom stood next to him, couldn’t help looking over at him every few floors, getting nothing new: Brian didn’t so much as twitch. He wasn’t even turned on anymore. It started to piss Dom off. He wanted to say something, except he had no fucking idea what to say, some feeling in his gut making him swallow everything that came into his head: _I don’t do that shit, O’Conner_ , or _just because you’re crazy doesn’t mean everyone is_ , or _quit making a big fucking deal about it_.

And meanwhile he was still feeling all the rest of it in his bones, his body heavy and relaxed and good, all that energy settled right back down: like winning a race and getting laid right after, the best fucking feeling in the world; he’d always loved it better than anything else. Except Brian was over there gone cold as a stone, when he’d been flying just as high, and it felt like — shit, like Dom had taken something away from him. Something Brian had slipped onto the table when Dom wasn’t looking, something he hadn’t even known Brian had in his pocket to put up. Something Brian hadn’t wanted to lose.

Dom glared at the elevator doors. Not his fucking problem: he hadn’t made Brian do anything. If he’d fucked up, gotten some wrong idea in his head — that Dom wanted that shit, any of it; yeah, he liked getting his dick sucked as much as the next guy, that wasn’t the same thing as wanting — Brian’s mouth on him, Brian’s head under his hands, something Brian hadn’t ever given anybody else — _shit_.

“Brian,” he said, through his teeth.

“If you say anything to me right now, I swear to God I’ll beat the shit out of you or die trying,” Brian said, and Dom knew Brian well enough to know that was the literal fucking truth: Brian would just keep coming until he went down to stay, and he wouldn’t go down to stay without multiple internal injuries.

There wasn’t anything to say, anyway. There were twenty floors left to go, and when they got out, they still had Shaw to deal with. They weren’t going to talk about it. They were going to leave it back there up on the ninety-third floor, what Brian had given him, and Dom was never going to see it again. And he hadn’t known it was there, maybe, but he was sure as hell going to know it was gone.

He yanked the stop button, the elevator squealing to a halt between the seventh and eighth floors, and he turned around and grabbed Brian and shoved him against the wall of the elevator and kissed him again. Brian didn’t want to kiss him back, trying to shove him off, but Dom held him and leaned in and kissed him, different this time: soft, sucking on his mouth, gentle. Brian stopped fighting him, but he went restless under his hands: getting the message but not ready to hear it, like he didn’t trust Dom to mean it. Made Dom feel like a fucking asshole: Jesus, had he nearly lost this, lost Brian, over — _bullshit_ ; what, like he was scared to let Brian put his dick in him?

“Hit the next floor,” he said. “We’re going back upstairs.”

Brian didn’t move at first. Then the hardness went out of him all of a sudden, left empty behind. He looked down and away and said quietly, “Forget it, Dom. It’s okay. Let’s go,” like he thought —

“ _Fuck_ you, O’Conner,” Dom said. “You think we’re not in this shit together? You don’t want to go back, we’ll do it here,” and he went for Brian’s pants, Brian grabbed for his hands, they wrestled back and forth and ended up dumping themselves on the floor. Dom rolled over on top of Brian and pinned him down, kissed him, slid his hand into Brian’s pants and got hold of his dick, sweet and hot in his palm, and it was fantastic to feel it getting hard for him again, Brian gasping under him.

And then the fucker tried to get off that way, pushing into Dom’s hand like he was just going to take the assist. Dom let go and glared at him. “Goddammit, O’Conner, just because some of us might actually let a thought go through our heads once in a while — ”

“Oh, fuck off, Toretto, if you wanted to have a thought, you should’ve had it before you came in my _mouth_ ,” Brian said, propping himself up on his elbows and glaring right back, finally getting back on board.

“Yeah, yeah, get over it,” Dom said, and kissed him hard. “Let’s go, O’Conner, are you going to fuck me or what?”

# End

**Author's Note:**

> All fb loved! If you liked, [reblog](http://astolat.tumblr.com/post/121104169543/adrenaline-astolat-fast-and-the-furious)!


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